


Falling Down in a Spiral

by Aurum18



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Erica Reyes, Alive Vernon Boyd, Alive Vernon Boyd & Erica Reyes, BAMF Stiles, Bad Touch Peter, Basically, Canon-Typical Violence, Covens, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Derek Hale Never Left, Dimension Travel, Emotional Manipulation, Everybody Wants Stiles, Floating - Freeform, Fluff, Hale Family Feels, Hale-McCall Pack, Isaac Lahey Never Left, Jackson Needs a Hug, Jackson Never Left, Kidnapped Peter, Kidnapped Peter Hale, Kidnapped Stiles, Magic, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Minor Lydia Martin/Jackson Whittemore, Mountain Ash, Multi, No Slash, One-Sided Erica Reyes/Stiles Stilinski - Freeform, One-Sided Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Original Character(s), Pack Feels, Powerful Stiles Stilinski, Sassy Stiles Stilinski, Scent Marking, Sexy Stiles Stilinski, Snarky Peter, Snarky Stiles, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Stiles fights dirty, Stiles is single, Stiles-centric, The Hale Pack - Freeform, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Witches, magical influence, people fight over Stiles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-02 23:05:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 9,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11519382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurum18/pseuds/Aurum18
Summary: Everything was fine in Beacon Hills which meant chaos would descend soon and destroy the dwindling population of the 'unfortunate' town.Stiles,of course, didn't want that to happen again and of course it happened again.This time they have to battle against a invisible foe: magic.Soon it becomes apparent that whoever is wielding the power is after something or more accurately someone.Why can't Stiles' life NOT go to hell for once?





	1. Something Strange

  “You do know that you’re killing wolves by doing that” Stiles commented as Scott went to make another paper aeroplane to add to the pile that preceded it and watched in glee as Scott yelped and jumped a foot in the air as he dropped the offending piece of paper. “WHAT HOW!!”

  “Well Scott…” grinned Stiles. “Paper is made from wood which is made from trees so to make paper you need to cut down innocent trees in the poor rainforests so you’re also killing monkeys-“  Scott flinched again. “-and the trees that were cut down let out lots of carbon dioxide which then floated up and joined the earth’s atmosphere which with all the other greenhouse gases acts as an insulator and keeps the planet’s heat in which warms up said planet and melts the ice caps and glaciers which polar bears and arctic wolves live on.”

  “Jeez Stiles you had me scared for a second there…” Scott moaned.

  “Hey it’s a very important scary issue!” protested Stiles.

 “You’re the only one who pays attention in geography you know that?” sighed Scott.

  Stiles huffed and rolled his eyes “I don’t want to work in McDonalds you know.”

  Scott was about to reply (probably to brag the merits of vets not needing to know about global warming which Stiles would have argued that they needed to know about the dying animals) when Stiles’ phone rung with the ‘Sexy and I Know It” song which Stiles had assigned to Derek’s number.

  Stiles cut it off at ‘ain’t afraid to show it’ and answered with “T’sup wolfie”

“Stiles! Erica’s floating!” Derek conveyed in a rush.

“Wait, slow down… What??” frowned Stiles.

“Erica’s FLOATING!” shouted Derek down the phone. “IN. THE. AIR.!!!”

“Okay I’m coming” nodded Stiles whilst gesturing for Scott to follow while also slipping some shoes on. “Why didn’t you call Scott?”

“Because I trust you more.” Came Derek’s surly voice.

“Awww sourwolf didn’t know you cared” simpered Stiles.

“Plus Scott’s probably making out with Kira or Allison- I lose track- or he’s with you” added Derek.

 Stiles started up the jeep and buckled in and made sure Scott did the same (he didn’t care about supernatural healing powers; he didn’t want his best friend to go through his baby’s windscreen).

“He’s with you isn’t he” growled Derek.

“Yup”

  When Stiles and Scott arrived at the loft they were confronted with a scene of chaos- Erica was floating mid-air in her underwear (Stiles had no idea why she had so little on) whilst Isaac and Derek ran around frantically below, Boyd looked on worriedly from the side-lines and Peter looked on, amused, from the spiral staircase.

   When Derek spotted them he ran over. “Do something!” he demanded Stiles.

  “What? Me? How?” flailed Stiles confusedly.

 “I don’t know! Just do something!” growled Derek then resumed his frantic running about.

“Helpful…” muttered Stiles as Scott joined him. He glanced around for a table or chair he could stand on and was confronted with a grand total of nothing.

“I CAN’T DO ANYTHING” yelled Stiles and was ignored by Derek.

“Do something” smirked Peter, half mimicking Derek’s earlier words. As Stiles turned to glare at him an idea sparked in his head.

  Stiles dodged across the room and shoved past Peter up the stairs who gave a muffled “Hey!” of indignation then a “Seriously?” as he realised Stiles’ plan.

  Stiles climbed onto the rail near the top and closed his eyes. Erica wasn’t right by it but if he pushed off hard enough he should reach her before he started to descend and hopefully she would break his fall. _You can do this Stiles_ he told himself _you can do this_ then he propelled himself off to the shocked shouts of the people below.

  _YOU CAN’T DO THIS WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING!_ thought Stiles as he began to drop a millimetre away from his target- he was going to smash down without a floating Erica to cushion him. _Calm Stiles- you CAN do this. You can do this._ He closed his eyes. _You can do it!_

  Stiles fingers came into contact with Erica then they were falling, falling, stopped. Well that wasn’t too bad- it didn’t hurt. WAIT THAT WAS REALLY BAD! His eyes flew open and-

   Erica was hanging below him an inch from the floor and he appeared to be floating now. This was a strange day and why the hell did he do that when Erica wasn’t in immediate danger? Maybe he was subconsciously suicidal…

  Derek grabbed his arms and pulled him to the floor and when he landed on top of Erica he was firmly in gravity’s hold again. Phew. He was just going to sit here for a while.

  He sat there for an amazing total of three seconds before he was rolled over and Erica was on top of him and all of a sudden he was reminded that she was only in a bra and knickers.

  “Hey were you interrupted whilst you were getting changed or what?” asked Stiles keeping his eyes firmly on the beta’s face which morphed into a red-lipped smirk.

“Maybe I was” she whispered, seductively. “You’re doing it again you know”

“Err... what? Breathing? Cos that’s normal.” He stuttered awkwardly.

“Looking into my eyes” she simpered batting her lashes and flashing her chestnut orbs lined with dark makeup at him.

“It’s kinda the only thing I can see at the moment” squeaked Stiles whilst resisting the urge to close his eyes and give himself away.

“Well we can change that” smirked Erica and was about to move when both Derek and Scott shoved her off.

    “That’s enough” growled Derek at her flashing his alpha eyes.

  “Aw” said Peter. “I was enjoying the show”

 “Shut up Peter” said Scott, Derek, Isaac and Erica all at once.

  “Something strange is going on” said Derek at the pack meeting he had called at the loft.

“No kidding” muttered Stiles under his breath.

“We’ve had floating people and rash behaviour” nodded Scott.

“Rash behaviour?” asked Kira.

“Stiles leapt off the stairs and almost killed himself and Erica tried to err seduce him” offered Isaac.

  “Isn’t that normal behaviour?” asked Allison, frowning.

  “Stiles can be stupid-“started Scott.

“HEY!” interjected Stiles feeling very indignant as he defended himself.

  “But he isn’t suicidal” finished Scott.

“What about Erica?” enquired Stiles, “She’s done that before”

“WHAT?” exclaimed Scott as Derek said “That’s because I asked her to” then Stiles yelled “WHAT?” himself.

  “That isn’t the point” said Boyd. “There’s something going on”

“Something strange” agreed Erica.

 Stiles was not missing this opportunity. “In the neighbourhood…  Who you gonna call? GHOSTBUSTERS!” he sung ignoring the unanimous eye roll.


	2. You are a Stranger Here- Why have you Come?

All of the pack were gathered outside Deaton’s and Scott was knocking on his boss’ door. They were there, obviously, because of the ‘floating incident’. Derek had suggested seeing the cryptic vet because it was some sort of magic and Deaton was the local expert.

   The door was flung open and Stiles and the others were greeted with the normally suave man with a panicked look on his face but it quickly dissolved and Stiles wondered if he had imagined it.

  “Come in” said Deaton, whilst gesturing them through the door.

   When they were all in he turned to them with a sombre look on his face and was about to say something but Scott blurted “People were floating!!!”

  Deaton didn’t seem too shocked. “Well, that seems to prove my theory” he said, calm as ever (unless Stiles hadn’t imagined that look on his face earlier).

  “What theory?” asked Liam, hurriedly and as Mason nodded beside him and Stiles was glad that Liam’s friend was being included in pack meetings.

   “There is a group of very powerful people in town” answered Deaton.

  “Powerful people?” was the general response of the pack.

“A coven of some sorts” was Deaton’s response.

“Coven?” asked Peter from the back of the crew, sounding alert.

“Most probably. I can sense quite a large group of magically talented people.” Deaton was being a bit more straightforward than usual…

“Doesn’t that mean- “started Peter who surprisingly looked quite scared.

“Yes” interrupted Deaton.

“Whoa whoa whoa, hold up!” exclaimed Stiles. “What are you talking about? Isn’t a coven a group of psycho witches?”

  Peter’s gaze snapped to Stiles and a strange look formed before he muttered “Of course…” and slipped out the door.

  “Hey hold up! Derek?” said Stiles, miffed and intrigued.

   Derek made no move to stop his uncle. “Just let him get on with whatever he’s up to” he muttered.

  Stiles suddenly remembered Deaton was still here at the same time as Lydia and, in tandem, they said “Deaton?” Stiles glanced at Lydia and raised his eyebrows to say you take this one.

  “Why is Peter so worried?” asked Lydia, looking quite worried herself now Stiles’ was paying closer attention to her.

  “What’s a coven?” asked Malia, stepping in front of Lydia who looked annoyed.

  Deaton seemed quite amused.

“Stop it” hissed Scott to the two girls as Lydia tried to push in front of Malia again and they both almost knocked Stiles over.

   “Tell us everything you know” Derek addressed the vet-emissary.

 “Well covens are large groups of magic users- they usually stay on their own territory… they only stray into other land if they want to expand their territory or…” Deaton trailed off and glanced at Stiles out of the corner of his eye for a nanosecond before looking straight ahead again.

  “Or what?” prompted Erica who was suddenly leaning over Stiles’ shoulder.

  “What did you say about floating again?” Deaton asked.

“We were minding our own business when Erica floated into the room, err,” Isaac blushed. “in her underwear and we couldn’t get her down”

  “I called Stiles and he came along with Scott in tow” continued Derek, scowling a little as per usual.

  “We got there and I had the smart idea of propelling myself off the top of the spiral staircase” Stiles told Deaton.

  “He leapt off the stairs and towards me- he almost missed me but then, somehow, he grabbed me and then Stiles was floating instead off me and we drifted down to the floor.” Erica told her part.

  “Then Stiles dropped to the ground and Erica tried to make out with him” finished Boyd and Stiles noticed Erica was blushing and avoiding looking at Stiles.

  Deaton frowned then asked “Stiles what were you thinking when you jumped?”

 “I dunno I kinda went crazy for a while and almost, accidentally, committed suicide. I don’t know what I was thinking!” defended Stiles, indignantly. Who was Deaton to parent him about it?

  Deaton shook his head, still frowning, and Lydia jumped a little over by Malia and gasped.

“What were your literal thoughts whilst you were doing it??” prompted Lydia.

“I dunno.” Stiles said thoughtfully. “Something like; Let’s do this! This is a crap idea! You need to do this! You’re going to die!”

  Deaton and Lydia shared a look.

  “You asked me what else they do when they cross into other territory” said Deaton. “Usually they don’t bring so many but-”

  “They recruit.” Finished Lydia who was apparently on the same wave length as Deaton and what? Recruit?

“Remember what I said before you tried to capture Jackson at the club?” asked Deaton.


	3. Into the Unknown

Stiles was apparently a powerful spark and a group of magical mad women may or may not be after him. Cue research binge.

    Coven was a term for a group of witches like a pack of wolves or a skulk of foxes. There was nothing on the internet about sparks unless he was secretly a 3d printer platform or his favourite: an active investigator (he was so totally one of them).

     Deaton had lent Stiles a book though which was called ‘Ignis enim libros magistri magicae’. Yeah it was in latin (not archaic thankfully so google translate, crappy as it was, could help).

      Stiles was literally a chapter into the handbook (note to self  ‘libri’= handbook) and he was starting to hate Google’s patchy translations.

   So far all that he had learnt was that sparks had magic (duh) but were still human and magical collectors (who appeared to be the book’s target audience) should not kill without provocation. Also sparks who could do more than enforce a line of mountain ash were rare.

   Making impossible amounts of mountain ash spread across a long distance and breaking it without touching it classed Stiles as ‘powerful’ aka. rare. Stiles didn’t want to be ‘rare’ if that meant crazy covens and eager ‘magic collectors’.

    Stiles really didn’t feel powerful either. He felt just as weak and useless as he had felt before Scott got bitten.

    “Stiles.”

  “WOARGHH” screeched Stiles and spun around expecting to see Derek but was greeted with the sight of Peter. “Jeez! How long have you been in here? Don’t answer that- I don’t want to know. Is this sneaking up on people thing hereditary? Cos I don’t like it at all. Warn me next time!”

   Peter looked amused by Stiles’ rambling.

  “Stop doing that! Why are you even here?”

  “To keep an eye on you” was the suave response.

“Why?”

“Because you’re in danger.”

“Way to reassure me” Stiles rolled his eyes. “Why did you leave the clinic?”

Peter frowned a bit but it was quickly replaced with his neutral smug face. “To check something out.”

“Check out what, creeper wolf?” Stiles was curious.

“I know this coven- they’re the magical equivalent of the Alpha Pack- they are all extremely powerful” There was that word again. Powerful.

  “Well that’s cleared something up- they are definitely not after me” Stiles felt relief. “Maybe we can sort out a peace treaty?”

  “You have no idea how powerful you are do you?” Peter shook his head then slinked out the window.

“Helpful” muttered Stiles and turned back to his computer.

 

 

The next morning was sunny and it was decided- via the pack group chat- that they were going to train and have a picnic in the preserve.

  Stiles was about to claim his usual place in the shade under a tree to watch when Derek yanked him up.

“Oh no you don’t” growled the sourwolf.

“Wha-“ was Stiles’ intelligent response as he was shoved into the middle of the clearing.

  “You’re training too” explained Lydia who was examining her immaculate pink nails.

 “Why?” Stiles whined. Don’t judge- he enjoyed sunbathing, relaxing and watching his pack whilst they trained.

“Because you need train your abilities too” explained Malia who was suddenly pressed up against Stiles’ back.

“But-“

“No buts” Lydia neatly interrupted.

Five seconds later, Stiles was flat on the ground after a banshee blast of doom.

“Lydia!” he immediately moved to retaliate but was tackled by Malia.

Stiles huffed. It was going to be a long day.

 

 

    Stiles devoured his baguette as fast as he could and poured ice cold water down his throat then over his head. He was exhausted!

   “Tired” smirked Peter. Oh yeah. Uncle creepy had been forced to train as well.

“Shut up” growled Stiles, shovelling cake into his mouth and Erica laughed.

“Can’t take a little heat?”

Stiles had an amazing comeback planned but didn’t get to say it because at that moment the ground shuddered then started swirling dizzyingly, scattering the pack and their picnic.

   Not again. The witches appeared to be back at play. Dirt flew down Stiles’ throat and he choked.

    “Stiles!” screamed Allison and he looked over to see she was being sucked into the ground, already half submerged. “Help!!!”


	4. I want the Sky

For a moment Stiles wondered why Allison had called _his_ name but as she was sucked further down he was spurred into action. He leapt through the whirlwind and grabbed both of Allison’s hand as hard as he could. It wasn’t hard enough.

    He needed the rest of the pack. Where were they? Stiles glanced over his shoulder and realised that they couldn’t move through the unnatural storm. Panic shuddered through him.

   “Stiles” said Allison urgently. Only above her shoulders was visible now as the strange dirt whirlpool dragged her.

   “Believe” yelled a voice. Lydia’s.

   Stiles remembered Peter’s words. ‘ You have no idea how powerful you are’ He could do this. He could save Allison.

 . . . . . . . . . . .

“Mrrghhhh” mumbled Stiles and opened his eyes. “Erchhhk!!” Bad Idea.

“Why is it s’bright” he groaned with black spots dancing around against the bright red of his eyelids. He moved his hand over his eyes and tried again this time letting them adjust.

    “Stiles” sighed Malia whose face was in his face.

“Mgahh” Stiles shoved Malia away. He did not appreciate waking up with faces in his face. Also she had knocked him down far too many times in training.

   “What happened” asked Stiles sitting up. He remembered pulling Allison one last time with all his might and then everything went a little fuzzy.

  “You threw Allison in the air and….” Scott looked up, a small frown on his face.

  “What I didn’t send her to mars di-“ Stiles looked up. “Oh.”

  Allison was floating in the air exactly like Erica had been but with more clothes.

    “Then you passed out” growled a familiar voice.

  “Hey sourwolf” Stiles got up and looked at Allison and came to a conclusion. “I am not hurling myself off of that tree.”

  “Imagine her coming down” suggested Lydia. Stiles did.

“It’s not working!”

“Be patient and believe” Lydia said.

“Urgh”

  Stiles closed his eyes and focused on getting Allison down and ‘believed’. He was just about to open his eyes and declare he was going to have to throw himself off the aforementioned tree when something landed on top of him.

  “Oooof” Stiles was making far too many indiscernible noises today.

  “I’m Okay” said Allison and Stiles guessed that the pack must be fussing over her. Why did he guess? Because he had Allison’s butt on his face. The butt suddenly disappeared. “Stiles are _you_ okay!!!”

   Allison looked guilty that she had fallen on top of Stiles. “I’m fine”

    “What was that hurricane thing?” asked Isaac twiddling his red scarf a little.

  “Our coven” Okay that voice was new. The pack spun around and were greeted with a crowd of about 20 people emerging from the woods. They radiated power and Stiles had to stop himself from peeing in his pants a little.

    Derek growled at them.

  The woman who had spoken just looked at Derek and even Stiles could hear the tiny whimper that Derek emitted but he was quick to muffle it with another growl.

   “We’re here for your spark” The woman was dressed in normal, average clothes but she was covered in tattoos and her hair was a deep purple. She looked in her mid-twenties.

    “Me?” said Stiles. “Sorry but I think you’re in the wrong place- maybe try New York. That’s far away. Or maybe China or -even better- the moon. Bye. Thanks for coming”

   The purple haired woman just raised a perfect eyebrow and Stiles was reminded of Lydia.

    “You are Mieczyslaw Genim Stilinski correct?” Stiles winced at the use of his full name.

  “How do you know my name?!” As far as Stiles knew the only alive people who knew his name were Scott and his dad.

   “We know everything about you Stiles” the woman smiled creepily. Okay that was weird- now she was calling him Stiles.

     “What do you want?” said Scott through gritted teeth and Stiles facepalmed. She had literally just told them that.

   “I expect Stiles to meet with us before the next full moon or you might accidently lose some pack members” Stiles shuddered at her smile even as he realised he was going to have to meet with them. He couldn’t let anything happen to his pack.

    They disappeared in a puff of gold smoke.

“Well, crap”

   


	5. A little Unsteady

The pack was playing ‘guard the Stiles’. It was annoying. Really annoying. Like he felt awkward pooping because he knew they could hear it. It wasn’t fair.

Especially as Stiles really needed to sneak off tomorrow and meet the ‘coven’. He had thought through everything, trying to think of another idea but nothing had come to him. It was him or the pack and the pack came first.

    Stiles half suspected the reason why he was being stalked by the pack was because they knew he would try to meet the witches, or whatever they were.

   Stiles frowned as he surveyed the millions of ‘disappearing spells’ online- some were just nonsense and some were borderline pornographic. Yeah, no thanks.

    Stiles clicked on a promising link and spluttered when the page came up.

“I don’t think that’s going to work” an amused, familiar voice said from behind him.

   Stiles spluttered again, jumped, closed the tab and fell off of his chair.

“Peter!”

Peter laughed.

“Shut up” Stiles muttered from the floor.

“Trying to escape surveillance?” smirked Peter.

“Are you going to help me?” asked Stiles. If anyone was to help him get to that meeting it was Peter.

“No.” Peter’s suave exterior had cracked a bit and Stiles was slightly shocked.

“Why?” Stiles whined, pulling himself to his feet.

“Because I like you Stiles” was Peter’s response, similar to the words he had spoken in that parking garage a long while ago but with a hardly there yet still detectable tremor.

 “You’ve had a run in with this coven before, haven’t you?” Stiles guessed and ,for the first time since Stiles had met him, Peter flinched.

“Just- stay here. There’s safety in numbers” Peter was out the window in a flash and Stiles suddenly realised Peter and Derek had similarities- the way Peter had spoken bluntly and given a useless, slightly poetic piece of advice reminded him of a certain someone.

   Stiles had thought Peter was invincible and fearless. Whatever those witches had done must have been bad.

  It didn’t matter to Stiles’ decision. He had to meet that coven or one of his pack would die and Stiles’ had just thought of someone else in the pack who might help him escape -or- at least not care about him enough to let him slip away. Jackson.


	6. Start of Something

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Stiles slightly emotionally manipulates Jackson in this chapter.

After an hour or so of plotting and calculating risks, Stiles was ready to put his plan into action.

None of the wolves he knew were lurking outside his house came in during that time- they probably thought he was doing homework. Actually, come to think of it, he really did need to do his homework…

Oh well that could wait.

   He knew Jackson was outside because he had stumbled across their ‘Stiles watching’ rota when around Scott’s house yesterday.

  Stiles pulled out his phone- his plan was petty but Jackson cared about some petty things and this was probably one of them.

   He held the phone up to his ear- still turned off.

   “Scott” he whispered. As much as Stiles knew Jackson was outside, he knew Scott wasn’t. Unless they changed the rota or something. That would be embarrassing.

   “What are you doing calling me Scott?” he kept his whispering quiet enough as to not arouse suspicion- it wouldn’t fool Peter but Stiles was sure that he had left.

   After he had waited what he deemed long enough he started whispering again. “You know they might hear me- you don’t want to give us away”

   If his earlier whispering hadn’t caught their attention this sure would. He knew that out there at the moment were Isaac, Liam and Jackson.

   “You don’t know what hair product is his?” Stiles raised his voice a little at the end to make it sound more realistic. Like he actually was exasperated.

  “He uses Kevin Murphy Hair resort- I heard him boasting about it”

   “Yeah I know it’s texturizing beach stuff”

“Pansy?” Stiles snorted.

Come on, where was Jackson?

 Isaac would probably be fiddling with his scarf, uncaring and Liam probably was texting Hayden.

Jackson would know he was talking about him though.

“What else?”

“He also uses that English stuff- Ted Baker. I saw it in his bag.”

“How much hair dye to put in?” Stiles whispered as quietly as he could. He didn’t want to give himself away. Jackson was probably thinking that he was an idiot giving himself away like this ‘by accident’.

Where was he? He should have jumped through the window at the word ‘hair dye’.

   Okay.

“OMG!!! Pink?” Stiles guffawed loudly.

There was a delay and Stiles thought it hadn’t worked but then the window slammed open and Jackson flung himself through.

  “Stiles” he barked. “Stop your idiot friend right now.”

  Stiles laughed, oh this was gold. It wasn’t real but it was gold.

“I hung up” Stiles said gleefully. This would be so much easier if Isaac and Liam weren’t out there…

   “Give me your phone.” Jackson commanded but he looked a bit scared.

Stiles shook his head.

“Look,” Jackson’s voice was quieter. “I sent the other two away for this”

What? Yesssss! This was amazingly good news. Stiles internally celebrated.

“No one knows about that rabbit” Jackson said desperately.

Wait what? Rabbit?

  “I know it’s pink and all but it’s the only thing I have left from my birth parents”

Stiles realised that Jackson must have thought he was talking about a sentimental possession when he had mentioned pink…

“Look, please don’t tell anyone- they’ll think I’m a baby” Stiles actually kind of felt sorry for Jackson for a moment- having to appear tough or he’d go tumbling down the social ladder but also caring about his family so much that he’d risk his reputation.

  “I won’t tell anyone” Stiles said quietly. “We didn’t realise it was something so important to you”

   “You won’t?” Jackson sounds amazingly relieved then he narrows his eyes. “What’s the catch?”

   “I need to go do something for a bit” Stiles sighed.

  “You know I can’t let you leave alone! The pack will kill me!” Jackson’s voice raised and he had started to look slightly scared again. It was a new and strange look on his face.

  “It- it’s something private and quite embarrassing” Stiles took lead from Jackson’s true story, hoping to gain sympathy.

It worked, Jackson’s face softened a tiny bit.

“I swear I will be back before the full moon” Stiles hoped Jackson wouldn’t be able to tell that he was lying through his teeth.

Jackson opened his mouth as if to protest then… “Okay”

Stiles sighed as if in relief whilst partying inside.

“Thank you”

“But I swear if you don’t come back, Stilinski, I will run your face over with my Porsche.”

  Stiles was free.


	7. Survivor

Roscoe was waiting for Stiles when he got outside and there weren’t any lurking werewolves or kitsunes in sight that were going to pounce on him and drag him back into custody.

  He internally thanked the assholey awesomeness that was Jackson Whittemore.

    “I love you Jackson” called Stiles before he turned the keys in the ignition of his Jeep.

  Stiles caught a snarled “Shut up, Stilinski” before he pelted out of the drive at top speed like the furies were after him. For all he knew they were; it was Beacon Hills and in this town anything was possible and even if he didn’t have bat-winged grannies on his tail he knew that Lydia could be described as a, much more attractive, fury when pissed off.

    “Coven of evil witches” muttered Stiles. “You better watch your asses ‘cos here I come”

 

***

Jackson whimpered.

“Are you telling me that you let Stiles go out?” stormed Lydia, green eyes lit up in anger. “Alone?”

Jackson tried to make himself look as small as possible and was internally glad that the entire pack wasn’t witnessing his embarrassment, though judging by the manicured nails of Lydia’s stabbing venomously at her phone they would be here soon.

“Have you got nothing to say for yourself?” the furious banshee demanded.

“He threatened Pinkie.” Muttered Jackson flinching in anticipation of the harsh retaliation.

Instead Lydia sighed. “He’s going to the coven, Jacks, and all because of a soft toy.”

“How do you know for sure? Maybe he hasn’t.” guilt settled in Jackson’s stomach like mercury, weighing him down.

  “Because that’s just the sort of stupid, self-sacrificing thing he’d do.”

 

***

“Yoohoo” sing-songed Stiles into the trees. “Your order has arrived- one snarky little spark right on your doorstep.”

  “Stiles Mieczyslaw Genim Stilinski” The vibrant haired leader from the other day appeared in front of him, one of her tattoos glowing before fading. Maybe she used them to do magic?

“Can you stop calling me by my full name, lady? It’s freaking me out.” Stiles responded to the threat with his usual defence; sarcasm.

“You came” Okay so she was going to ignore him then.

“Yeah?” responded Stiles. “I’m kind of here aren’t I?”

“Our coven is glad. We try not to kill too many innocents” another witch appeared, this one young with strange, almost glowing silver hair.

“I’d personally prefer you not killing any innocents, to be honest” Stiles raised an eyebrow.

“I always liked the sarcastic ones” said the plum haired one and Stiles sighed.

“You sound like a guy I know...he was a crazy person working at a place for crazies so it didn’t take much in the end to secure him in a nice little cosy padded cell with jailers guarding the door.”

“Did you just insult and threaten us?” queried the younger girl.

Stiles looked at his nails, wishing he had hair to flick like Lydia. “Uh, yeah I think I just did.”

“That’s cute” said the girl, bluntly.

“Are you patronising me? Because I think that you’re younger than me- like at least three years.”

“Gabii,” warned the tattooed woman and she rolled her eyes which kind of broke the mysterious aura they had going on.

“Come with us now” the witch said.

“Oh, I didn’t say I was coming with you” said Stiles.

“You are nothing but a defenceless untrained spark.” Sneered Gabii. “What are you going to do?”

“Kick your asses” Stiles informed her with a smirk. He hadn’t gone straight to the woods, regardless of what his friends thought, he wasn’t that suicidal. He had got a few supplies first.

“Reyna, can we just take him already?”

The purple haired ruler nodded and stepped forwards.

“You came willingly and now we must take you.” She said.

Stiles swallowed down his fear and held his head up high. “I’m not going down without a fight.”


	8. I Get Back Up

“I’m not going down without a fight” said Stiles, head held high.

The annoying one- Gabii?- lunged at Stiles and he stepped to the side. For a badass coven that move was pretty lousy. He hadn’t even needed to uncover his trick.

  _Fwoosh_

Something caught Stiles’ ear and he quickly dodged a bolt of toxic looking sparkles. Okay, this was more of what he’d been expecting.

“Bring it on wart face” cawed Stiles.

“Idiot” muttered Reyna, raising a staff that suddenly appeared in her hand.

Gabii cackled from behind and Stiles turned to discover she had a wickedly spiky thing that was pointing right at him. Gulp.

Stiles smirked.

They lunged.

And fell over.

Stiles laughed.

 “Can’t touch this” he sing-songed, waggling his hips a little. This was just too fun.

“What was that” spluttered an angry looking Gabii.

“Now why would I tell you that sweetheart” danced Stiles, enjoying the look of indignant fury which overcame the witch’s features.

“No matter, you’re still coming with us” Reyna was floating impressively in mid-air, purple sparks converging around her.

“Good Luck” grinned Stiles, oh this was hilarious.

 

\--

Lydia was still livid at Jackson but Scott could also see her concern which mirrored his own and the rest of the pack’s.

  They were heading, as fast as possible, to the woods where Stiles would be meeting the witches.

  Scott hoped to God they weren’t too late.

 “Where’s Peter?” asked Liam and Scott turned to look at him in the backseat of the Porsche. Yes, Jackson’s Porsche.

Scott frowned, trying to think of when he had seen Derek’s sly uncle last.

“I’m not sure-why?”

“Maybe he could help?” suggested Liam.

Scott shook his head “I don’t think so Liam- I don’t think he even cares”

 

\--

Peter raised his head, sniffing the air for the traces of Stiles’ scent.

 That idiot, he should have kept a closer eye on him. It was Stiles, of course he should’ve.

 Now Peter was having to face _that_ coven and nobody, least of all him, wanted that.

  A new whiff caught Peter’s nose and he sped on into the trees.

Stiles was a clever boy but he didn’t know just what power they had up their sleeves.

\--

Stiles had fallen into an easy rhythm of dodging and throwing the deadly mistletoe powder stashed in his pocket.

First he had thought of wolfsbane and mountain ash but if Stiles could control the black ash then they probably could too. Then he had remembered Jennifer Blake and the rest was history.

Of course, there was the issue of the white berry affecting him too but that was nothing some thick leather gloves couldn’t handle (Stiles wished they were dragonhide like in Harry Potter but sadly dragons weren’t actually a thing- he’d even asked Deaton).

“Hey, Gabs” called Stiles as she jabbed a pronged spear at him. The girl snarled as a new handful of mistletoe slapped her in the face.

“That’s a nice pouch you have in your pocket” said Reyna from behind him.

Stiles spun around, still carefully watching the other witch from the corner of his eye.

“So you’ve figured my little trick out” sighed Stiles exaggeratedly. “Shame it won’t help you…”

“Oh” the coven leader tilted her head. “It won’t?”

Stiles swallowed his doubts. He had the berry and the duo couldn’t get near him, he was safe.

“You look very sexy in those gloves, Stiles” smiled Gabii sweetly.

“Oh?” said Stiles, throat dry. Maybe he should run for it- but no he needed to keep the pack safe.

“But I think your fingers will look prettier with them off”

Stiles gasped, eyes wide, as his hands were engulfed in flame. He waved them about in the air trying to make it stop, stop, _stop_.

Stiles’ breath came quicker as the bright dancing light burned at his eyes.

“You don’t like that?” whispered a voice in his ear, cool hands taking hold of his flailing wrists. “No?”

Stiles whimpered and the fire disappeared leaving his hands utterly bare and exposed.

“You were toying with me” realised Stiles.

“So easy to play with” crooned the voice in his ear, Stiles identified it as Gabii when Reyna moved in front of him.

“Now as I said earlier, you’re coming with us” said the vibrant-haired witch.

Stiles blinked and opened his mouth to snark “As I said earlier, not without a fight.”

He wasn’t giving in this easily.

Stiles twisted his arms, elbowed Gabii in the face and tackled her to the ground his left fist raised ready to swing.

“Not so fast” cackled Gabii as she lurched up planting her own fist in Stiles face.

“Arweeh” grunted Stiles, wincing as he was pinned to the ground.

Oh he was so playing dirty. He punched the witch in the boob and she gasped in pain.

“You-“

Stiles howled in pain as she kneed him in the nuts. Then he bit her on the arm.

Yeah, he thought as he looked at her incredulous face- it’s not just werewolves who bite.

“Enough of this child’s play” boomed the coven leader and Stiles was lifted into the air, Gabii stepping- scowling- away from him.

\--

Peter watched in dismay as Reyna floated a panicking Stiles into the air, he ran the last few metres and came to an abrupt halt in front of the witch.

“Let him go” growled Peter.

“Ah, _Peter,_ long time no see. I was wondering when I’d bump into you”

“I said let him go” repeated Peter, eyes ablaze.

“Sorry, I can’t do that” simpered the witch.

“I guess I’ll have to make you” Peter charged at Reyna, claws out.

Peter’s eyes widened in pain as he slammed into an invisible wall. No not this, anything but this again.

“Peter, Peter, Peter” sighed the witch. “I really thought you’d learnt something from our time together…”

Peter watched Stiles helplessly floating as he banged against the walls of his invisible, box shaped prison.

“Let him go” yelled the human spark. “It’s me you want!”

“Hmmm” purred the purple-maned woman. “But I miss him so much”

Gabii stalked round next to her leader’s side. “Is it time?”

“Yes.”

Peter met Stiles’ fear-stricken gaze.

“Coven” snapped Reyna.

Around the werewolf, the witches materialised. They smirked at Stiles flailing body and sneered in amusement at Peter.

“Let’s go.”

Then Peter’s vision flashed dark and the clearing was left empty.


	9. Tainted Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: there are slight threats of non-con in this chapter

When the pack arrived at the scene, all that was left was a light dusting of mistletoe on the ground and lingering scents.

“Peter was here” frowned Scott, sniffing at the air.

“He must be helping them!” gasped Lydia, still haunted by her part in bringing the werewolf back to life.

“No” said Derek and the others turned to look at him. “Peter likes Stiles and it was obvious that he was terrified of this coven…”

The forest was silent but for bird song and rustling branches, whilst the teens mulled this over.

“Why would they take Peter too?” Malia broke the silence, frowning.

“I’m not sure” admitted Derek.

“Maybe Peter followed them?” Liam suggested.

A deer edged into view, tricked by the lack of noise as the pack mulled that over, only to gallop swiftly away upon seeing the predators gathered.

 Derek watched it silently, thinking back to hunts with his family on full moons before the fire. Peter used to be the pack left-hand, which meant he was in charge of tying up loose ends and doing the dirty work that had to be done in order the protect the pack.

Derek’s uncle would always be the first to reach the deer and end its fear with a swift, painless bite to the neck, the rest of his pack would follow behind, giddy with the thrill of the chase and Derek and the other kids would try to sink their teeth in too, only to be chastised by their mum, the alpha.

 _We’re werewolves, not savages_ she would say and help Peter and Derek’s dad to carry the carcass home to cook for dinner.

Derek swallowed away the ghost taste of venison and bittersweet memories to focus on the task at hand. Stiles was missing and was Peter and they needed to find their lost packmates.

“Never mind why” said Derek firmly, completely chasing way the silence and memories. “We need to find them”

The others nodded in agreement.

“Can Deaton do tracking spells?” queried Lydia.

 

\------

 

Stiles came to with a groan. The last thing he remembered was flashing dizzying darkness and the fear on Peter Hale’s face.

  He was lying sideways on something hard- probably the floor- and there was warmth against his back and across his waist. He couldn’t hear anything at all but for his breathing and someone else’s.

As Stiles woke up more he became aware of warm puffs of air against his ear and a steady heartbeat where something was on his waist. There was someone spooning him.

Stiles woke up immediately at that realisation, squawking indignantly and flailing. He was in a concrete box of a room and as he got to his feet he heard a loud thud and a groan which was probably the dreaded spooner falling face-first on the ground.

 He turned around and was confronted with a very pissed off, bleary-eyed Peter removing himself from the floor.

“What was that for” snarked Peter.

“You were spooning me!” accused Stiles, trying to cover his amusement at Peter’s current predicament with a scowl.

“I was asleep” Peter rolled his eyes. “Therefore, it was not my conscious fault and therefore I did not deserve that awakening.”

“Whatever” sassed Stiles, regarding the room they were in more closely. “Where do you think we are?”

“How am I supposed to know?” asked Peter, eyebrows raised questioningly.

Stiles huffed in annoyance.

The room had no possible entrance or exit and Stiles couldn’t help but wonder how they’d been put in here.

Peter seemed to guess what he was thinking. “Magic, remember?”

“Urgh” was Stiles’ reply. “I hate magic”

He flopped dramatically onto the floor, glaring at the LED light fitting.

“Maybe you can use your magic to get us out of here?” suggested Peter and that was a good idea.

“Good thinking, batman” nodded Stiles before closing his eyes.

 _There’s a door over there,_ he thought hard _, there’s a door right over there and it’s going to lead us to where the rest of the pack are. There’s a door._

Stiles slowly opened his eyes. There was no door. Just the same boring, ridiculous concrete wall.

“Try again” suggested Peter, watching Stiles carefully.

Stiles did.

And did again.

And again.

Stiles jumped to his feet, screaming in frustration.

“JUST LET US OUT!!”

Stiles could’ve sworn he heard an amused female laugh but he was probably imagining it.

He tried one more time just for luck, but there was still no avail.

Stiles swore and kicked the wall. He wasn’t claustrophobic but it felt like the walls were pressing in on them, trapping them, making it impossible to move.

He flailed wildly, kicking his legs out and glared at Peter’s amused look.

“Shut up” snarled Stiles.

“It’s not my fault, Stiles” sighed Peter dramatically. “Maybe we wouldn’t be here if you had just listened to me”

“Oh yeah?” snapped Stiles. “And someone in our pack would have died! No thank you!”

“They’re going to die anyway. At least we’d be safe.”

“Shut up!” yelled Stiles and lunged at Peter.

Peter caught Stiles flying hands easily, spun them around and trapped him against a wall.

“Get off of me!” snarled Stiles, struggling, anger and frustration coursing through his veins.

“Maybe I don’t want to” purred Peter, suddenly impossibly closer, eyes dilated and looking predatory.

Stiles’ anger evaporated in an instant and he went limp. “Peter?”

“Mmhmm” inhaled the wolf, leaning into Stiles’ neck.

“Peter? Are you okay” asked Stiles shakily as Peter scent marked him.

There was no response but then a mumbled “so pretty” against his throat.

Stiles started to panic. Peter was creepy but not this much. This had to be the coven’s influence again, like with Erica but with no alpha werewolves to save him this time.

He started to struggle. “Get off! Get off!”

Peter just laughed and bit at his neck. “So feisty”

Stiles whimpered and tried to full bodily throw himself away from the werewolf with no success.

Peter smirked against Stiles’ neck and transferred both of his flailing arms to one hand. The other hand creeping lower.

Just as Peter’s hand started to inch under Stiles’ top there was a blinding flash and suddenly Peter was blown across the room and Stiles was falling backwards through the door he had tried to summon earlier.

But he didn’t arrive safely with his pack like he wanted.

Stiles fully understood the saying ‘out of the frying pan and into the fire’ as he looked around him at the circle of witches now surrounding him.

Well, crap.

 


	10. It's the end of the world as we know it ( And I don't really feel fine)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything so far kinda goes to crap in an update less than 800 words after over a year of radio silence, thank me later (sorry)

“Err…hi?” Stiles weakly suggested from his position on the floor.

“Mieczyslaw Genim Stilinski” smirked Reyna from the circle.

“Okay, please cut that full name crap out already. What is this? The third time you’ve said it in like as many days….Not cool.”

“Sarcasm. Oh how I have missed such a thing.” This was a man’s voice and Stiles jumped up and spun around because that voice wasn’t just out of place in a coven that had been just women so far. It was extra out of place because Stiles recognised that voice. It still haunted his nightmares.

No, it wasn’t the nogitsune. (Not that bad, don’t worry.)

“Brunski” quipped Stiles, the skin on his neck crawling at the memory of sharp stabby needles.

“You’re supposed to be locked up somewhere where the sun doesn’t shine in Eichen, I just told this crazy witch lady over here that you were, I may be many things but I’m not a liar….okay maybe I am but still”

“You were talking about him?” laughed Gabii (who was here also, just peachy).

Reyna smirked.“We’re not here to recruit you. We only take women.”

“Obviously” muttered Gabii and ,despite his confusion, Stiles pulled a face at her.

“Brunski here required you for what he’s working on”

“What?”

Stiles spun round at the sound of a voice (again) and saw Peter had emerged from the room, thankfully (and obnoxiously) back to normal.

There were torches on the stone walls (by the way where were they?) and the flickering light made the man look far more menacing than Brunski despite the fact the was on Stiles side- hopefully.

Brunski laughed ,and Stiles really hadn’t missed that sound. “Peter Hale, a bonus. Thank you ladies for delivering them to me, I’ll be sure to recommend you to my circles.”

“You have circles?” Stiles exclaimed. “Seriously? Who would want to hang out with you?”

“Why do you want us?” asked Peter, who was frowning.

“It’s quite complicated” Brunski smirked. “I’m not sure you’ll comprehend it”

“Try me” spat Stiles and Peter in tandem before looking at each other, slightly amused.

“Quite the double act” murmured Brunski. He was acting quite weird if this was a crappy fanfiction it would be like the writer had forgotten how to characterise him. But it wasn’t. It was real, and Stiles was seriously creeped out.

“The world isn’t quite as you know it-” started Brunski.

“Yes, we know” Peter rolled his eyes. “Werewolves.”

Brunski chucked. “No, it’s much more surprising than that. See, I’ve discovered the art of dimension travel”

“You what-?“ spluttered Stiles incredulously.

“Turn’s out, I’m not the only one. You can probably ask a few creative writers about that. To name a few: JK Rowling, Arthur Conan Doyle, Rick Riordan, Dashner, whoever created DC, Star Wars, Lord of the Rings…and Marvel as well as many more. Turns out, the dimension shifting community is way bigger than the supernatural one. Turns out, I’m was pretty lucky that a member of it was sharing my cell.”

“This is crazy” Stiles shook his head, eyes wide. Was this psycho saying that some of his favourite fictional universes were…real?

“Okay” drawled Peter. “I’m not quite sure what you’re on because you appear to be suggesting-“

“He’s not suggesting anything” Reyna spoke for the first time in a while and Stiles realised with a start that the rest of the coven had gone without him noticing. “It’s true.”

She disappeared in a puff of purple smoke.

“What the-“ Stiles mumbled then- “You mean to say I can meet Iron Man and Spiderman and Deadpool and Batman and Harry Potter and Newt and Leo Valdez and Percy Jackson and-“

“I don’t know who half of those are” Brunski answered, amusedly. “It is possible. But I doubt it. The purpose I need you for will not mean you will cross paths with any so called ‘heroes’”

“Aw c’mon.” moaned Stiles. “If this is true it could be amazing. It’s like every fan’s dream to meet their fictional idol. Wait. There are like different versions of these aus, especially Marvel wise- there are like all the comics of which there are so many they probably contradict each other- DC too- but then there’s the MCU and the whole X-men universe from Universal Studios and Fox’s failed Spideyverse, plus actors and directors make things up all the time and-“

“Stiles” snarled Peter. “As much as I appreciate your rants, espesciallt the written down history of-“

“Okay, how do you know about that-“

“This isn’t the time Stiles. We need to get out of here.”

“Oh, you’re not getting out of here” Brunski exclaimed.

Stiles exchanged a look with Peter. “Oh yeahhh?”

Stiles would’ve happily fought if Brunski had not thrown something at them, causing everything to (clichély) go dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't updated in aaages. And sorry for the sharp left the plot just took, if you're not i the fandoms of some mentioned DON'T RUN AWAY (fun fact: I'm not in some of them, I just added them in to make it seem a more diverse spread of fiction rather than just teenage girl trash, though I think they all come under that anyway, whoops) okay so, spoiler alert, theyre gonna end up somewhere marvelous (sorry couldn't resist) but I'm not going to go into all proper stuff so if you've never seen or read anything of Marvel it's cool. You don't need to have. I'm just going to utilise a few features of the Marvel universe because it will be badass. But if this fic has a sequel... yeah it's going to be a fun lil rollercoaster ride. I might do oneshots and little snippets cos anyone who's been waiting 14 months for this update knows I'm a terrible updater.


	11. Welcome to the Jungle

“Urggnnh” groaned Stiles. His head hurt. Like a lot.

He was lying down, probably on some floor outside judging by the uncomfortable bumpiness. He cracked his eyes open and immediately shut the again because that was really freaking bright…and green?

“Am I in the hulk?” mumbled Stiles, remembering the conversation before he’d been knocked out.

“What?”

Stiles recognised the overly sarcastic, incredulous tone of one Peter Hale and groaned again.

“So you’re still here?” he mumbled.

“Yep”

“Fantastic.”

“By the way _Stiles_ , we are _not_ in the hulk” Peter informed him. “We’re in a _tent._ It’s green.”

“Can you stop doing that? Speaking like so sarcastically, it would look ridiculous written down there would be so many italics.” Stiles abrubtly sat up and winced because ouch his body _hurt._ “I’ve been told I’m bad but you- you are so much damn worse.”

“That doesn’t make sense, Stiles” Peter snarked. “Also, are you going to open your eyes any time soon?”

“Yes!” Stiles exclaimed and did. Peter was right, they were in a green tent. He was sitting across from him, looking as sarcastic and dodgy as usual. Which reminded him of the last time they had been alone together and ,no, he did not want to go there.

Peter raised an eyebrow at his grimace.

“Stop being so annoying” moaned Stiles. “Why haven’t you broken us out already? We are literally in a room made of easily tearable fabric and you have claws.”

“I have tried you know” sighed Peter over dramatically. “It doesn’t work”

“Oh, yeah?” Stiles challenged. “Let me see then.”

Peter lifted a clawed hand towards the green fabric then hesitated before touching it.

Now it was Stiles’ turn to raise an eyebrow. “Go on then.”

The moment Peter touched it, there were sparks and he flinched away.

“Ow” said Peter.

“That is so freaking cool” exclaimed Stiles, examining the tent, where the sparks had been it now had glowing orange symbols like runes that faded away as he watched. “It must be some kind of force field. There’s no technology like that on Earth…It kind of reminds me of something though…”

“Ow” said Peter again with an eyeroll this time. “Aren’t you going to make sure that I’m okay?”

“Nope” Stiles popped the ‘p’. “Have you tried to get out the entrance over there. You know the zippy door?”

“It has much the same effect” Peter said, very melodramatically. Seriously, the man needed an award for his sheer level of melodrama and sarcasm.

“I want to see you try”

“ _Stiles_ ” Peter snarled and probably would have continued with some sarcastic comment or threat of bodily harm but was interrupted by the aforementioned zip opening.

And there was Brunski. He looked every bit his usual asshole self.

“You can come out now.” He smirked. “Not sure why you haven’t already…”

Peter lunged at him but the former orderly dodged. Stiles followed and found himself outside the tent and in a forest clearing that looked quite normal considering the advanced technology that must have been in the tent. There were plants he recognised; oak trees, bluebells, a rowan tree, grass, a blackberry bush, other plants he recognised but didn’t know the name of. There were also quite a few tents similar to the one they had just vacated and some menacing looking soldier-types.

Unfortunately, there didn’t appear to be any weapons handily lying about to aid their escape.

Stiles quickly glanced over at Peter who was getting up and dusting himself from where he had landed on the floor after his failed attack. Perhaps, now they were free of the tent, Peter could put his claws to good use and fight them out.

“Where are we?” Stiles demanded of Brunski.

“A forest.”

“I don’t remember you being so sarcastic” sneered Stiles. “I was hoping for something more specific.”

“Why would I tell you that?” the man laughed. “However, I can tell you we’re not in Kansas anymore.”

“What do you mean?” questioned Peter.

“We’re in another dimension aren’t we?” realised Stiles shakily.

Brunski nodded.

“Not that it really matters to you in the end. You’re here because I required a spark to help me activate something quite interesting that we found.”

“And what’s that?” Peter queried, narrowing his eyes.

Brunski tapped the side of his nose.

“Is there any reason you brought us out of that tent other than to be infuriatingly not forthcoming?” Stiles glared at the man.

“Of course. I needed you out in the open to give you some motivation to help before I cuff you both. Shoot him.”

“Wait wha-“ started Stiles but was cut short as Peter fell to the ground with a yell.

One of the soldier-type men had shot him. In the leg. But whilst that was better than the heart or the head, it really wasn’t great if the bullet had been wolfsbane.

Stiles dropped to his knees next to Peter and examined the wound.

“It’s okay, Stiles” Peter winced, leaning up on one elbow. “I’ve been shot before. I’ll heal. Honestly, I’m quite touched, I’m fine.”

“No you’re not” said Stiles, vaguely aware his voice had risen in pitch, slightly hysterically because it was wolfsbane or something similar. What Stiles could see of the wound was a nasty irritated purple, black colour and swollen massively.

“What the hell is wrong with you!” yelled Stiles at Brunski. “What the hell was in that bullet?!”

Brunski chuckled. “Don’t worry. There’s an antidote”

He tapped a pocket on the jacket he was wearing which had a syringe sort of shaped lump.

“What’s the catch?”

“I’ll let you give it to him once you’ve cooperated. He has about 48 hours left but he’ll be healed in less than 4 if you do as I say.”

Peter was looking angry but also pretty tired. Stiles glanced at him worriedly and bit his lip. When Stiles had first been rudely introduced to the world of the supernatural it had been this man’s fault. He’d been the bad guy at first. Stiles had actually helped kill him before and he died before he’d came back using Lydia and driving her to the edge. He was still, despite having been acting as an ally now, annoying, infuriating and stupidly over dramatic.

Stiles could refuse to help Brunski, it was probably something pretty bad he wanted Stiles to do or cause. Stiles could just let Peter die. But at some point, without Stiles realising it, the loyal, protective streak in him had attached itself to Peter. He cared about the man and somehow, he couldn’t let him die.

Stiles closed his eyes. Stupid wolfsbane, he’d had enough of all these supernatural herbs and stuff. Wolfsbane had threatened those he cared about way too many times. Mistletoe was also another bane of Stiles life. And mountain ash, despite having saved lives, he could do without also- it was the reason the Hales had been unable to escape from the fire leaving Derek, Peter and Cora broken. In a way it could also be blamed for this- Peter wouldn’t have bitten Scott if he hadn’t been driven blind by rage and Stiles wouldn’t be useful to Brunski, wouldn’t be a spark if he couldn’t manipulate mountain ash. He wanted to find whatever tree it came from and pulverise it. What tree was it again? Rowan.

Rowan.

Stiles’ eyes flew open and focused on what he had spotted earlier without realising its importance. It would’ve been useful earlier before Peter had got shot but Stiles was glad it looked so unsuspecting because Brunski and all his men hadn’t realised it’s importance either.

Earlier, when taking stock of his surroundings he had noted there weren’t any helpful weapons casually lying about but there, amazingly, was.

Stiles wasn’t completely sure if it could help him in this form but it was worth the risk.

A rowan tree.

This was going to be awesome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two updates in 3 days? And this one is abnormally long? Get a doctor.


End file.
